


Empatia Diabla

by PeskiPixi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Broken Sam Winchester, F/M, Fingering, Fluff, Penetration, Rough Sex, Supernatural smut, emotional catharsis, male/female - Freeform, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 14:05:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9660470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeskiPixi/pseuds/PeskiPixi
Summary: Sam needs to get laid. Sam gets laid. Basically. Dean might also get laid in part two. Who knows.





	

Being an empath sucked.   
It really, really sucked sometimes, you thought as you walked home. You were exhausted, your heart feeling fluttery in your chest and your ankles wobbling dangerously in your heels. Being around some people did that to you sometimes. And these two, they just reeked of misery and heartbreak and rage. You had to get away from them as soon as possible.   
Flicking your hair out of your face, you pushed a key into the door where you had stopped, pushing the door open and turning to close it in one motion. You threw the deadbolt. This was the city after all. You headed to the bathroom, rubbing your hands vigorously over your face, trying to dispel the threatening headache. There were two things you needed right now, and after turning on the taps, you headed to the fridge, pouring yourself a large glass of that lovely red you opened yesterday. Minutes later, you were sighing with contentment, the warm water slowly undoing the hard knots in your muscles, while the wine warmed your stomach and relaxed your mind. Although you were in a more relaxed state, your mind drifted back to the afternoon.   
**********  
You had been working, and right in the middle of your set, you felt the atmosphere change.   
Afternoon shift at a strip joint was usually quite a relaxed affair. Only the usuals hung around, the harmless pervs, the drunks, the down-and-outs. You were almost mindlessly going through your routine, already having got rid of the short plaid skirt and the white button-up shirt. You were dressed in white knee-high socks, black baby dolls and a matching, virginal white bra- and knickers set. Oh and of course the compulsory blonde pigtails. One your last turn before the bra goes, your eyes locked onto an intense pair of green ones, staring out of the overly handsome face of a male model. Completing the turn, you looked again, and your eyes caught the other one. The green-eyed beauty and the large, long-haired doe-eyed piece of deliciousness were watching you intensely. But although the smaller one had a glint in his eye, their scrutiny was not the kind you were used to. They were not here for their pleasure, they were here on business. They weren’t cops, although they gave off a slight law enforcement air, they were somehow… more.   
Shucking the bra with a twirl, and because they intrigued you, you pranced over to them, bending over and wiggling your bottom at them, shooting the big one a wink between your spread legs, making him colour and look away. The smaller one was smirking at you, clearly enjoying the other’s discomfort. You played it a bit more, smiling at them and batting your eyes, shimmying your shoulders and making your breasts jiggle, smirking to yourself as the larger one dropped his eyes again, the awkwardness coming off of him in waves.   
Half regretfully finishing your routine with a spectacular vertical split on the pole, you unwound yourself and strutted off the stage. As you entered the dressing room, you were already pulling off the itchy blonde pigtail wig, shaking free your own midnight hair. Pulling a dressing gown on, you grabbed a bottle of water and took a swig, just as the door opened.   
“Sorry Cara, there are two gentleman here to see you.” Russel said apologetically, poking his bald head in. You nodded as you took a swig from your water bottle. The door opened wider to admit your two newest admirers. The smaller one walked in first, his eyes everywhere with the air of a little boy in a candy shop. The big one followed, ducking his head slightly as he came in, making his long hair fall into his face. He shook it back and his eyes came straight to yours. His eyes were deep set with a peculiar dark hazel colour. But the most obvious thing about them was the depth. So much emotion lying deep, trying to hide, but clear as day to you. Pain. Despair. Rage. And a deep deep longing, who knew for what. The skin prickled on the back of your neck. These two were trouble. They dragged danger and violence behind them like dead bodies everywhere they went. You could sense it so clearly, it very nearly took your breath away. The next thing that crowed into your consciousness was their bond. These two were intimately, irrevocably, undeniably bonded. They were two halves of a whole.   
“Good day, miss. My name is agent Holt, and this is my partner, Agent Wilson. Can we have a word with you about your colleague?” The shorter pretty one said.   
“Brothers.” It came out without you meaning it to.   
“I’m sorry?” he said, cocking his head to one side after shooting his companion a glance.  
“You’re not partners. You’re brothers.” You said, looking him straight in the eye and seeing the surprise flash behind his carefully constructed mask.   
That’s it, that’s his thing, you thought. He wears a mask. He hides his pain better.   
“To someone like me, it’s plain as day. You share much more than a working relationship. You share blood, family, pain. Love.”   
Suddenly you were annoyed. These two have so much emotions going on, it’s already making you tired and irritable. You turned around, sitting at your dressing table and starting to brush your hair.  
“Look, Candi…. Please, can we talk to you?”   
“It’s Cara.” You answered without turning around.  
It was the big one talking, and you turned around, intrigued. It was a mistake. You have never ever seen puppy eyes being wielded with such skill, such mastery. His forehead scrunched as his eyes pleaded, crumbling your defences effortlessly. Someone that large, that handsome, shouldn’t have that talent as well. The female population of the world didn’t stand a chance. Sighing, you turned around again, seeing them relax again. The big one continued.   
“My name is Sam, and this is my brother, Dean. We are investigating the disappearance of your colleague…” He consulted a small notebook. “Suga.”  
You felt the dread rise like bile in your throat. Of course they were here about that.   
“Her real name is Gwen. Gwendolene Johns.” You felt the tears prick at your throat. “She’s been missing since last Tuesday.” You swallowed, forcing yourself to continue. “What do you want to know?”  
**********  
You opened your eyes, taking a deep breath and a sip of your wine. Hopefully you won’t see them again. Closing your eyes, you lay back, thinking five more minutes. Just as you started to relax again, there was a loud knock on the door. You jumped, sloshing water on the floor and swearing to yourself, listening intently. The knock was repeated, and rolling your eyes, you hoisted your body out of the water, dripping everywhere as you wrapped a towel around yourself. Still mumbling swearwords under your breath, you made your way to the front door. As you exited the bedroom door, front door rattled, the lock disengaged but the deadbolt holding it. Then you heard a voice.   
“Cara! Cara! Open up! Cara!”  
It was a gravelly baritone, raised with worry, calling your name repeatedly while rattling the door. You recognised the voice, it was Dean from this afternoon. Your steady stream of vituperation intensified as you rolled your eyes.   
“Relax, I’m coming!” you yelled, struggling to tie the towel around you. It went quiet and you tiptoed to the door, listening. You heard two voices whisper-arguing through their teeth.  
“I say let’s just tell her the truth.”  
“Are you insane? We can’t go around telling people the truth Sammy!”   
I dunno Dean, she seems like…”  
You threw back the deadbolt and opened the door, surprising them. They both snapped their mouths shut and stared, Sam looking uncomfortable but sneaking peeks at your damp legs and chest, and Dean openly giving you a scorching once over. You grinned inwardly and stepped to one side nonchalantly, letting them in.   
“Mind if I get dressed?” you tossed over your shoulder as you sauntered to the bedroom. You were answered by a jumble of “yeah okays” as Dean sprawled in a chair and Sam stood around nervously, hunching into himself. When you returned, they were seated next to each other on your couch, leaning forward in exactly the same posture. Elbows on widespread knees and hands joined.  
“What can I do for you boys?”  
“Well, first, you were right, we’re not FBI agents. We’re hunters.” Sam said, Dean leaning back and folding his arms, clearly not in agreement with his brother.  
You stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue. He sighed, threw his brother a glance and continued.  
“We hunt monsters. Ghosts, vampires, werewolves, demons. They’re all real. And we hunt them down and kill them.”  
You felt the hair on the back of your neck stand on end and your face go cold. But you didn’t react. Sam glanced at you, looking a bit embarrassed.   
“I know it’s hard to believe. But they are. And we suspect your friend Gwen might have been taken by a creature called a Djinn.”  
You listened without saying a word as Dean took over, describing the “sons of bitches” as he put it, and how they capture humans and feed on them. This particular one seems to be fond of young, beautiful athletic girls, and have been preying on dancers, gym bunnies and now strippers. When they stopped talking, you took a deep breath, only slightly shaky.   
“Why are you here?” you asked, keeping your sentences short and not giving away the turmoil swirling in your stomach. Sam looked down, avoiding your eyes. Dean stared at you, as if waiting for the freak out. Well he’s in for a long wait. You don’t freak out easily.  
“We think….” He cleared his throat. “We think he’s coming for you next.”   
For a second, you felt as if your heart had stopped. Then it started again, hammering in your chest as you felt your eyes widen.   
“Me? Why me? What makes you so sure?”  
Dean, looking grave, his green speckled eyes fixed on yours, answered: “Because you fit the bill, perfectly. Because he’s clever, and he knows you won’t be missed immediately. And because we followed him to the club this afternoon. He was watching you.”   
You couldn’t stop the gasp escaping your lips, even though your hand flew to your mouth.   
“Unfortunately we couldn’t nab him, he vanished. So he’s out there.” He paused, rubbing a hand over his face. “We thought it would be prudent for you to go away. Vanish, for a few days, until we’ve dealt with it.”   
You were shaking your head already.   
“No. I’m not running. Whatever this thing is… I’m not letting it scare me out of my own house. I’ll stay put, lock up, be safe. But I’m not running.”  
The brothers exchanged a meaningful look, and Dean turned to you again.   
“We thought you’d feel that way. That’s why Sammy is going to stay here with you, while another hunter and myself go after the Djinn.”  
You thought about it, your eyes going from one brother to the other. The one grimly resolute, the other beseeching, looking worried for your safety. Dammit, these boys….  
“Okay, fine. One night, then we’ll see.”  
They both breathed a sigh.   
“Great.” Dean said, getting up with an air of finality. “Bobby’s meeting me at that diner we passed. See you later, Sammy. Cara.”   
“Be safe.” Sam answered simply.   
You felt those two little words stab right to your heart. They contained all the love, worry, respect and dependency he had for his older brother. You instinctively understood that Sam without Dean wanders off the beaten path, lost. But you also suspected that Dean without Sam is a hollow thing. Purposeless. Shaking off your thoughts, you smiled and greeted Dean as he left, closing the door behind him.   
“Coffee?” You asked Sam. “It’s probably going to be a long night.”  
“Yeah, thanks.” He answered, showing a slight smile for the first time, deep dimples peeping in his cheeks.   
Dammit, you thought. Dimples too. No fair.   
Making the coffee, you handed him a cup and flopped into your favourite chair, book in hand. Sam had brought his laptop and was sitting at your dining room table, engrossed in research of some sort, two books also spread out around him. You pretended to read your book, stealing glances at him as often as you dared. He had caught you at it twice already, smiled that small awkward smile and looked down again. Which meant that you weren’t the only one stealing glances. You didn’t talk, both content with the silence.   
Three hours later, you got up and stretched, your body full of kinks from being in the chair so long. Sam had been getting up every few minutes, checking out the windows and doing a walk through the house. But you were bored. You dropped down, placing your hands on the floor with your legs straight, then up again, reaching for the ceiling. Opening your eyes, you caught him staring at you, his eyes flicking down to your exposed stomach and his tongue darting out to lick his lips. The hunger was naked in his eyes for the first time. Grinning inwardly, you stalked towards him. You were suddenly in the mood for some fun. And you knew he needed to blow off some steam too, you could feel the tension coming off him in waves. Coming to a standstill behind him, you put your hands on his shoulders. They looked pitifully small against the broad expanse of his back.  
You felt him stiffen a bit, but he held still. You started to rub, your fingers working on the hard knots in the smooth warm muscles. He was so solid, you thought, and ripped. He hadn’t let go of the tension yet, sitting like a statue, letting you touch him, but holding back. You found a particularly hard knot, just inside his shoulder blade and pushed into it with both your thumbs, hard. Sam grunted, his head falling back a bit and the ends of his hair tickling over your arms. You leant closer, breathing him in stealthily, letting him feel you get closer as your hands continued working.   
Gradually, he started to unwind, the muscles relaxing under your firm pressure and his head fell back more, revealing a piece of hard muscled neck and chest which you longed to nibble on. But you knew better. You had to make it okay first.  
“Sam…” you breathed softly.  
“Mmmm…?” He rumbled, not opening his eyes.  
“I know your heart. I can feel it, all of it.” You said, almost holding your breath, hoping you hadn’t gone too far too quickly. You felt him stiffen under your hands again, his head coming up, wary.   
He cleared his throat. “What do you mean?”  
You turned, placing your bum on the edge of the table so that you could look into his face.   
“I am an empath, Sam. I am just very much in tune with people’s feelings. Their characters. What defines them.”   
You waited to see his reaction. He was looking up at you, his eyes open and vulnerable. The longing there almost stole your breath, the yearning for understanding, empathy, from anyone. The corners of his mouth turned down and he barked out a laugh, looking away.   
“You have no idea, Cara. What I am, what I carry inside me. You have no idea.” He still avoided your eyes, so you took his broad jaw between your fingers and turned his face to yours.   
“Yes, there is darkness, and there is probably not much I can do about it. But I also know, beyond a doubt, that your light shines too bright for that darkness to ever smother it.”  
He looked at you with doubt in his eyes, but also a sliver of hope. It gave you the courage to continue.   
“I can’t change who you are, or how you feel. But I can help you forget. Even if it’s only for a little while.”  
Pushing away from the table, you stood closer, pushing a hand into his hair. It was just as soft and silky as it looked. His eyes closed again, a pained little frown between his eyebrows.   
“Cara, this is…” he started, his fists bunching at his sides.   
“No, Sam,” you interrupted, “it’s not. It’s necessary. I can help you. Let me.”  
His lips pulled back from his teeth as he struggled with himself, keeping his head turned away. You trailed your fingers down his jaw, rubbing a thumb over his lips. He instinctively kissed it, and your stomach clenched with want. You knew he was close to breaking, to letting himself go, putting his trust in you, and you took a calculated risk. You straddled his legs, not sitting down, just getting closer. Then you leaned down and kissed him.   
His lips were unexpectedly soft. They melded to yours softly, tentatively, and the stark difference between his soft mouth and the hard scratchiness of his stubble made you breathe out a soft sigh. You nipped at his bottom lip with yours, drawing him out, inviting him. His breath was coming fast, his eyes still scrunched up as he resisted you, his honourable nature standing in the way of taking what you were offering. Making your last play, you tucked his hair behind his ear and leaned in close, letting your breath play across his ear as you whispered:  
“Let me in, Sam. Let go.”  
And that was the final straw. You almost felt his resolve crumble into dust as his hands came up and grabbed the back of your legs, lifting you up effortlessly and pulling you into his lap, close and tight. His one hand went to the small of your back, pulling you impossibly closer as his mouth sought yours. His kiss was warm, and tender and still slightly hesitant, as if he was afraid that you would change your mind. But it ignited a fire in your belly, a fire that was stoked higher by the tentative touch of his tongue at your bottom lip, asking permission, then slipping between your lips to taste you. He groaned into the kiss, his hands stroking over your back in broad sweeps. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you kissed him with everything you had, wriggling your fingers into his gorgeous hair and raking your nails down his scalp and his neck, making him shudder. You broke the kiss and climbed off his lap awkwardly, taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom. Halfway there, he scooped you up and carried you further, bridal style. He smiled down at you, and it was the first smile that warmed your hear with its realness.   
He threw you down on the bed, making you bounce a bit, and then he crawled after you, his eyes never leaving yours through strands of soft messy hair, covering your body with his. He leaned on his elbows as he kissed you again, his lips warm and wet and everywhere, travelling down your neck and back up, nipping and licking lightly. You were having a hard time remembering that this was your idea. His hand came up your side, his hand folding around your ribcage easily as he pushed up your t-shirt until his thumb was skimming at the underside of your breast. Your breath stuttered in your throat and you felt your nipples harden with desire. Sam was being so incredibly gentle, so patient, he was driving you insane. Hooking your leg over his, you pushed at his broad shoulders with all your might, heaving him over onto his back and sitting up, straddling his hips. You looked him in the eye and ground down, shifting your hips back and forth. You could feel the evidence of his arousal, hard and hot under you, making your muscles flutter inside you. Holding his eyes, you grabbed your t-shirt at the hem and whipped it off over your head. You saw his eyes widen as your bare breasts were exposed to him.  
Taking advantage of his surprise, you leant forward, offering your chest to him, and he didn’t need to be asked. He lifted his head and closed his lips over your nipple, suckling softly. Your back arched with a the sensation, a small needy sound escaping your lips. But you needed more. You sensed that he was still holding back a little, maybe it was a defence mechanism, maybe he was scared of hurting you because of his size, but whatever the reason was, you needed it to stop. You grabbed two handfuls of hair and bent back his head, making him let go of your breast and look into your eyes.   
“Let go, Sam. I’m not going to break. And I’m not going to run away. Take off the mask, Sam, I want to see you.” You lifted slightly to rub your hand hard over his erection. “I need to feel you.”  
His eyes were vulnerable, his brow drawn together as he looked up at you. You gave him a small encouraging nod. Then, he kissed you again. This kiss was different though, and you knew that you had finally peeled back the last layer to reveal the true man underneath. His one large hand was on your hip, stroking and kneading, the other tangled in your hair, forcing your head down to kiss you. His lips were still soft, but so much more insistent, taking rather than giving, his tongue invading your mouth harshly. Then he flipped you over again, manoeuvring cleverly to avoid landing on top of you with his full weight. He used the hold he still had on your hair to bend back you head, exposing your neck to his lips and teeth, making you hiss with the exquisite pain of it. His other hand worked on the waist of your loose yoga pants, forcing them down your legs, never breaking the kiss. Finally, you were naked beneath him.   
Then, he stood up, towering over you as he stood at the end of the bed. You watched silently as he pulled the loose plaid shirt off his shoulders, and then shucked the t-shirt. You barely kept from gasping aloud as he revealed the bare skin of his chest and shoulders. He was glorious, his shoulders wide and solidly muscled, his torso tapering down to narrow hips, and a strange pentagon-in-sunburst tattoo on his left pectoral. His hands went to his belt, loosening it with a practiced jerk and dropping his jeans, kicking it off with his boots. His legs were very long and sleekly muscled, but your eyes stayed on the glorious thick cock jutting out from his body. He was fully engorged, precum beading at the large purple head. You almost moaned with need, feeling a fresh flood of wetness rush from your core.   
When he was fully undressed, he came to you again and planted his hands on your knees, stretching you open. He swiped two fingers through your wetness, his thumb skimming just barely over your clit bringing them to his mouth and licking your essence clean. Your heart was beating in your throat and that simple act nearly made you come undone.   
You jumped as his phone started ringing in his jeans pocket. He rolled his eyes comically at you as he got up to answer it, pressing the button with one hand as he put his finger to his lips with the other.   
“Yeah, what’ve you got?” he asked into the phone, his other hand returning to your soaked core even as he spoke. You whimpered softly as he slid two fingers inside of you, making him lift his eyebrows at you in warning. Demonstrating a supreme grasp of multi-tasking, Sam carried on a conversation with his brother as he fingered you languidly, skimming his thumb over your nub as his long fingers sank into you again and again.  
“Nah, nothing much, all quiet. Doing some research. Yeah… okay. Let me know, okay?”  
You lay there, completely at his mercy, your own hand clamped over your mouth to keep from moaning out loud. Finally, Sam tossed the phone over his shoulder and removed his hand from your pussy, shooting you an evil grin.  
Getting on the bed, he knelt and sat back on his heels, grabbed your ankles and jerked you closer, lifting your hips up onto his thighs so that your core was aligned with his throbbing cock. He grabbed himself and slicked his head through your wetness, watching you, his eyes narrowed in concentration and his nostrils flared.   
Then he sank into you. Slowly, achingly slowly, he slid into you until he was sheathed fully. You whimpered with how full you were, how he stretched you. You could see him holding back in his breathing, his chest rising and falling unsteadily, sweat beading on his neck and chest.   
“Fuck me, Sam.” You breathed, hardly able to get the words out.   
Obeying, he pulled out almost completely and slammed back into you, pushing a breathless yell from your mouth. He set a steady pace, ramming into you relentlessly, holding on to your hips with a bruising grip, his large hands almost encircling your hips completely. His teeth were bared, deep dimples showing in his cheeks as he grimaced, watching his cock being engulfed again and again by your folds. You were climbing higher, no, being pushed higher, out of control and at his mercy. And you knew that this is what he needed. This is what you wanted to give him. He moved a hand from your hip and placed his thumb on your clit, pressing down hard and making you yelp and your hips surge up. He frigged you relentlessly, still pumping into you, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with every stroke. You were so close, whimpering his name over and over again.   
Your breath stopped in your throat as the wave crested and your body bowed back. As your orgasm crashed into you, Sam grabbed you around your middle and lifted you up like a ragdoll until you were sitting up, impaled on his cock, your hands going to his shoulders automatically. He kept on ramming into you with powerful thrusts, fucking you through your orgasm mercilessly with a loud grunt at every thrust. Your world was spinning out of control, your inner muscles fluttering as almost inhuman noises tumbled from your lips. Sam’s thrusts became erratic and you opened your eyes, needing to see, wanting to drink in his pleasure. For a moment, he looked into your eyes, and then his eyes glazed over as he went to a place of pure ecstasy, where there was no pain, no worry, no darkness. His soft lips opened in a perfect “O” as he spilled deep inside you, his long arms wrapped around you, holding onto you like a drowning man as his thrusts slowed and finally stopped.   
For long moments you both sat in absolute silence as your breathing returned to normal. Then, still wrapped in each other, you slowly toppled over, Sam coming to rest on his back and you ending up half on top of him, your face buried in his hair. He could feel his bliss, his breathing slow and his eyes closed, his large hand stoking lightly over your back. Just as you were about to fall asleep, his phone rang. Sam sighed.  
“You should probably get that.” you said, not moving.   
“Mmm-mmm….” Came the reply, rumbling under your ear. “It’s probably Dean. He’s going to be worried.”  
But he made no move, only tightened his arms around you until the phone stopped ringing. Then he bent his head up and kissed your hair.   
“Thank you, Cara.” He said simply.   
You didn’t need the words to understand how he felt. And you didn’t need to answer. You just snuggled into him deeper, wishing you could stay exactly where you were forever, but knowing that this was a once-off thing. That you had to let go again.   
As the phone started it’s incessant ringing again, you felt your heart break a little as Sam got up, kissed you once last time and smiled at you with that bland, generic although pretty smile. The doors had slammed shut again, you thought as he pulled on his jeans before answering the phone. From the one-sided conversation you could deduct that the djinn had been taken care of. You didn’t know how to feel about that. You were safe again, but it meant that the boys would be on their way again.   
You supposed that as with all things, you had to take the bitter with the sweet. At least you had him for a few hours.   
And he had peace.


End file.
